Tues. 11 a.m.: Mom calls to say she thinks she got bed bug bites from the B&B we stayed at. There was a lot of floral print there. Tues. 2:05 p.m.: Notice clusters of bites on arms. Web MD diagnosis: bed bug bites. Whole body itches. Wed. 8:05 a.m.: Wake up and count dozens of bites. Screw it, I’m skipping class to go to Housing Services. Wed. 9:37 a.m.: Burliest man ever tells me he’s sending his men in to investigate. Wed. 11:59 a.m.: I see a note in my room saying they have found no bed bugs. This doesn’t mean anything. Just because they can’t see the bugs doesn’t mean they aren’t there. Thurs. 11:28 p.m.: Sleep on my couch in a sleeping bag. But I probably contaminated the couch today or yesterday from sitting on it in my bed buggy clothes. Thankfully, tomorrow they're bringing in the bed bug sniffing hounds. Yes, they exist. Fri. 12:11 a.m.: Many villages of bed bugs are here with me. They feast upon me. Fri. 12:26 a.m.: I feel them crawl across my forehead. Armpit. Ankle. Belly button. Under–elbow. Fri. 12:53 a.m.: I want to kill something. Particularly: bed bugs. Fri. 2:03 a.m.: I calculate that 50% or more of my clothing is now infected. And soon my roommates will have them. Fri. 2:05 a.m.: Pretty soon my whole apartment will be infested. And then the whole building. And then the whole world. Fri. 2:11 a.m.: This is too much for one mere mortal. Fri. 12:23 p.m.: The dogs didn’t find any bed bugs. Roommate informs me that the dogs were cute. Fri. 1:00 p.m.: Go to Student Health. Kind nurse practitioner looks at bites. Prescribes Eucerin. Fri. 2:24 p.m.: Purchase lotion. Apply liberally. Fri. 4:11 p.m.: Bed bug bites disappear. It was dry skin. Apparently, the changing weather can do that. Oh.
More in Highbrow: Toasts and Roasts: Halloween Round Up Overheard at Penn Word on the Street: Send in the Queens
